


The Strange Case of the Boys in the Closet

by justgotowisharder



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Innocent Harry, Insecure Louis, Kid Fic, M/M, Mindless Fluff, Sub Louis, Time Skips, and louis is a dick, harry loves Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1301563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justgotowisharder/pseuds/justgotowisharder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I hate you,” Louis says, his voice huskier, biting Harry’s lower lip. “Now keep kissing me,” he pleads and Harry gladly obeys.</p><p>(or Harry and Louis hide inside the closet, and they discover how magic a closet can be)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Strange Case of the Boys in the Closet

**Author's Note:**

> I have two things to say: first of all, I want to say thanks to those two people who pointed out that the age of the boys was weird in this fic, it really was so i fixed it. thank you, whoever you were.  
> second, i'm so sorry for those who wanted to read this when i deleted it! now here it is, fixed and *hopefully* better. Enjoy! [ find me on tumblr ](ijustgotowisharder.tumblr.com) xx  
> This fic was translated into Russian, [ read it here (xx) ](http://ficbook.net/readfic/2207041)  
> 

"Why is your mom always crying, Louis?"

Louis Tomlinson would have loved to have an answer to give to Harry Styles, but he honestly doesn't have one. He’s only ten years old, the only thing he knows is that love is a lie and love doesn’t exists because if not— Why does his mother always ends with a broken heart and sea of sad tears?

"She says love is useless," Louis mutters sadly.

"Why?" Harry insists.

Louis gives Harry a warning glance. He doesn’t like to talk about the subject, plus they’re hiding close to the room where his mom is, so they have to keep it quiet and silent.

The two boys take a look inside the room. The scene is pretty sad: Jay is a crying mess, sitting on the sofa, and her best friend Anne (Harry's mom) is tenderly caressing her hair while she listens to Jay's rambling about how shitty love is.

"I hate when mom cries," Harry whispers sincerely. He doesn't like when Louis's mom cries, neither.

Louis hates when his mom cries, but he can't do anything about it. He knows that Jay does her best on trying to find a good man for her, but since Louis's father left her, nothing has gone right.

That's why Louis helps her. He helps her with everything: house stuff, looking after his sisters, the cooking (even when he's a shitty cooker)... All those things a ten years old boy shouldn't do, but he does anyway.

"It's fine, Anne. Thanks," Jay finally says, wiping away her tears. "It's going to be ok. I'm gonna call Harry, ok?" 

No, no, Louis doesn't want Harry to go away.

Actually, Harry is the only real friend Louis has; the only moment when he feels happy, free and young is when Harry is around him.

Yes, Harry might be a bit girly and annoying sometimes, and he talks very slowly and he asks too many questions, but he likes to play scrabble and water fights, and likes to paint with Louis and he just does the regular kids' stuff with him. And Louis thinks he's nice.

"Oh, I have to go," Harry says quietly when Anne and Jay stand up.

"No, you don't," Louis refuses grumpily and takes Harry's hand. "Come with me."

He pulls from Harry, leading him through the hallway; while Harry keeps asking what are they doing and where are they going.

"Lou, mom is going to be mad if she can't find me!"

"Shut up for a second, Haz," Louis begs and suddenly stops.

They're inside Louis's room, and if Harry was already confused, what Louis does next confuses him even more. The older boy opens his walk-in closet and pulls from Harry, stepping in. "Louis, what...?"

"Shut up, Hazza," he repeats and closes the door.

The closet has his own light inside and there are not only Louis's clothes but also his toys, books and school stuff.

It's a pretty nice place, Harry thinks. It's full of the things that make Louis be Louis: his footy ball, his shirt from the team, a Doncaster's football team poster, an autograph from Harry doesn't know who, pictures of him with his sisters and Louis's beloved collection of Spiderman figures.

"What are we doing inside the closet?" Harry asks after a while, when it's clear he won't get a logical explanation.

"I'm kidnapping you."

Harry frowns, confused for a second, then be smiles crookedly at him. He looks like an embarrassing mess, Louis thinks, with his disheveled curls and his too-wide purple hoodie. His green eyes seem too big for his face and he has the features of a little girl. He looks embarrassing, yeah, but somehow Louis finds him cute.

He doesn’t know if finding Harry cute is fine or wrong, yet he doesn’t think too much about it because he knows that love doesn’t exist. For his young age, finding Harry cute its just a thing that doesn’t deserve to be thought.

"You should be scared," Louis warns, raising eyebrows.

"Why?"

"Because I'm kidnapping you, dumb Hazzahead," Louis says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not scared."

"Then you're dumb."

Harry makes the puppy face he does when he doesn't like something, and Louis isn't sure if he wants to punch his friend on the face or kiss him. Kiss him seems like a pretty nice idea.

People like to kiss cute things, that's why Louis wants to kiss Harry. Not because he feels something slightly different towards him. Definitely no. 

(Definitely yes)

"Don't call me dumb, Lou."

"Dumb, dumb, dumb!" Harry gets nervous and Louis doesn’t know why, but he enjoys making the other boy nervous. He really enjoys teasing Harry.

He keeps repeating the word to him until Harry gets sick of it and jumps over him. Louis tries to dodge him, but the younger boy is quicker; so when he wants to react, he’s already lying on the floor and Harry is on top of him.

They both start a harmless fight, fight that ends up with their legs entangled and their sweaty bodies pressed hard against each other.

“Hazza, get off me!” Louis yells and Harry finally gives up, trying to stand up. When he does it, Louis moves up his leg and Harry trips over it and, in a desperate attempt to maintain the equilibrium; he grasps one of the jackets in the closet and everything falls down.

"What did you do?” Louis asks when he pops his head out of the sea of jackets and coats. “God, you’re so gangly. I’ll have to clean up this mess."

Harry looks at Louis with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t be mad at me, Lou. I’ll help you to clean up, ok?”

Maybe Louis likes teasing Harry, but he definitely doesn't like it when he's really concerned. He's too sweet and childish to be concerned, Louis just wants to hug him.

Harry is a cute boy, it reminds Louis of one of those teddy bears, fluffy, cute and lovely.

“’S ok, Harry," he muffles, rolling his eyes. “This is fun, anyway."

Harry’s green eyes light up when Louis says it, and he smiles so wide that his dimples are more visible.

"Thank you,” he thanks sincerely. Then he approaches the door, resting his ear against it. "Can you hear something?”

"No,” Harry says with a low voice. "It's weird— My mommy should be yelling because she can't find me.”

“Maybe she is still talking with my mom."

Harry nods with the head, unsure. When he looks up at Louis, he notices that Harry’s eyes shine a little bit brighter than regular eyes.

They’re pretty beautiful, if he has to be honest.

“I'm sorry about your mom, Lou."

"Thank you, Hazza. I'm sorry too,” he says and his voice sounds dull. “Now, can we come out of the closet?”

"I guess so."

“Ok,” Louis says and stands up, grabbing the key and opening the door. “Come with me.”

When they walk out of the closet, they look for their moms, finding them in the same place where they left them... And not a bit worried about the boys, which is weird, considering how much overprotective and exaggerated Anne is when it's about his son.

"Mom?" Harry asks and the two ladies turn to him. "Weren't you looking for me? Weren't you wondering where I was?"

"Well, I just decided that I was going to call you," Anne replies, a bit confused.

"But we were hiding a long time!"

"Hiding?" Jay asks, frowning. "You just went to Louis's bedroom and immediately came back."

Louis and Harry turn at each other, confused. Harry frowns and Louis shudders, unable to give him and answer. 

They don't understand.

Of course, they don't understand: while they were inside the closet, time has stopped.

 

❤

 

 

The closet incident was real.

It doesn’t matter how hard Louis tries to forget it, curiosity seems to grow bigger and bigger inside his mind. Does it happen only to them? Or it usually happens ?

After what happened with Harry, he hides inside his closet again to check if the time stop could happen again; yet it doesn't. Time didn’t stop. The easiest explanation for Louis is that all was a product of Harry’s imagination.

Louis finds no purpose on talking about such a weird subject with Zayn or Liam, his school friends, because he knows that they would laugh at him and mock him for believing in magic and fairy tales stuff. The only thing Louis finds possibly to do is to catch Harry’s attention when he comes with Anne the following day. Yet Harry seems to be determined to avoid him.

Maybe he's afraid, maybe he thinks Louis is a freak (Louis might think the same about him).

After trying several times to talk with Harry, Louis decides to stop acting like a girl. He decides to forget everything. It was just a one-time occurrence; God only know why it happened, but Louis needs to leave it in the past.

Until he sees him: he sees Harry walking out of his closet… With Fizzy. It’s ok, Fizzy is Louis’s sister and he should be happy because they’re friends and they get along well.

Except he isn’t happy.

Louis ignores the feeling that starts growing inside his chest and the voice inside his head that screams Harry is mine. He’s jealous because it’s pretty normal to be jealous over a friend, Louis tries to convince himself of that. 

Because love doesn’t exist. He’s too young to understand the deepness of his feelings, and it’s still easy to mix everything up and convince himself that it’s just part of a weird friendship feeling.

Instead, he decided to focus on the fact that the closet is a thing between Harry and Louis, not Harry and other girl, even if the girl is Louis’s sister.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Louis yells at the curly haired boy as soon as he meets him and Fizzy. "This is my room and this is my closet."

“Lou,” Harry mutters, blushing from head to toes. Fizzy ignores her brother while she closes the closet door.

“Harry, you can’t be inside the closet without me. Fizzy, you can't be in my room, stupid!"

“Louis, shut up," Fizzy says, irritated.

“Shut up you," Louis growls, trying to shush his sister with a wave of hands. “This is a thing between Harry and me. This closet isn't for you, you have your own room!”

“Louis, don’t be mad at Harry,” she quickly adds and reaches for Harry's hand and Louis doesn't smile when Harry doesn't hold her hand. "He just wanted to show me something."

“Well, you can’t see what Harry wanted to show you because you're not his friend,” Louis mocks her cheekily, putting that expression he does when he's a bastard. “Go away."

“Hey, Boo, don’t be so mean with your own sister.” Harry tries his part on making Louis calmer. He is not succeeding for now.

"Don't call me Boo!"

“Don’t worry, Hazza. He’s an idiot," Fizzy sighs before walking away.

Harry waits for Frizzy to disappear from his sight; then he asks quietly, “Lou, why are you so mean with her?”

“I’m not mean, I don't like when she sneaks in my room," Louis replies, folding his arms against his chest. “Also, you're stupid: you thought the closet thing was true."

“It was true!” Harry argues impatiently. "Lou, we both know that time stopped when we were hiding!"

Louis wants to yell back, but then Harry does that thing he does when he’s nervous: he licks his lips with his tongue. The older boy finds incredibly interesting how plump and flushed his lips look after he licks them.

Louis thinks Harry is pretty. Like, the kind of pretty boys talk about in school when they talk about girls.

Why is he even thinking about it?

“Lou," Harry calls, trying to get closer to Louis, but Louis steps back. “Lou, Fizzy is worried about you. She says you’re mean with everyone and you always yell at your sisters."

“That’s none of your business, Harry," Louis replies yet he doesn’t sound rude this time.

Honestly, Fizzy has no right to talk about his family issues with Harry, because it doesn’t matter how friends Anne and Jay are, what happens inside the Tomlinson family should stay inside the Tomlinson family.

“I know, Lou, but I’d like to help," Harry nods. Louis stares at him, wondering why on earth he is so interested in Louis’s life.

“Don’t try to fix my family," Louis warns, arching his eyebrows, “and forget about the closet incident, ok?”

Harry was well educated by Anne, so he knows he has to be kind even with Louis, but the boy drives Harry so, so mad.

The curly-haired runs towards Louis, grabs him by the arms and while the older boy yells and fights against him, Harry pushes him inside the closet and closes the door when he walks in.

“Let me out!” Louis shouts, looking at Harry with daggers eyes. “Let me out!”

“No, I’m not! We’ll have to wait. It's three o’clock and we have to check if the time actually stops.”

“Really, Harry? Come on, let me out,” Louis shouts angrily and hits Harry on the shoulder, but it doesn’t matter how hard he does it, Harry doesn’t protest. “I’m Louis Tomlinson and this is my house.”

“And I’m Harry Styles and... and I'm Harry Styles!”

The joke irritates Louis, who scoffs and rolls his eyes, tired of Harry. He simply sits down on the floor, trying a new strategy against the young boy.

“She doesn’t like you,” he says, talking as if he was speaking out an important announcement.

“She who?” Harry wonders, confused.

“Fizzy. My sister. She doesn’t like you.”

Harry blushes and bites his lower lip in a way that makes him look like a puppy. It’s adorable, and Louis has to do his best to ignore the tightening on his chest.

“I don’t love her,” he mutters, ashamed. “She’s just my friend.”

“Good,” Louis nods and he won’t admit that he’s happy to hear that Harry isn’t in love with Fizzy, “because love is a lie.”

“Love is not a lie! Why do you say that?” the young boy asks, missing Louis’s point.

“You’re so dumb,” Louis mocks him. “I’m telling you because you need to know it.”

“Why?” Harry insists, sitting down in front of Louis.

“Because someone will make you believe that she loves you and that's a lie and— you’ll have your heart broken.”

Harry runs out of words and Louis feels proud of it. It feels nice to tell someone that love doesn’t exist. It’s so good, because Louis needs to tell someone love is a lie; that love doesn’t exist. Jay is the proof: alone, with a son and a lot of daughters, and with a different boyfriend every week.

Love doesn’t exist.

"Why don’t you believe in love, Louis?” Harry wonders, tilting his head to one side in a very stupid and cute way. “Is it because of your mom?”

"No," Louis answers brusquely, which Harry takes as an actual ‘yes.' "No… Mom has nothing to do on this," he scoffs and rubs his face with his hands, tired. "I just— Don’t have time for love."

"That’s silly," Harry replies. "You don’t need time for love. Love just finds its time."

"You’re cheesy," Louis growls.

"And you’re being mean."

"Good, because I’m not trying to be friendly, u’know?"

Harry folds his arms and purses his lips. Sitting on pretzel position, with his messy curls and a glittering shitty scarf around his neck, Harry looks ridiculous.

He was always like that, the kid who believes in true love no matter what. Louis wonders how he made it when Anne got divorced... Harry never stopped believing in love.

Louis sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, wondering why he feels that emptiness inside his chest and why does it feels better when Harry is around.

He's too young to understand, too young to know that the emptiness on his chest comes with a denial of true love.

He's still clueless to how true love feels like, and sometimes, Harry's innocence and pureness overwhelm him.

"Lou, do you know I fancy you a lot, right?"

Louis opens wide his eyes and frowns, completely scandalized by the question. With a high-pitched voice he asks, "What?"

Harry is a child, Harry shouldn't be talking about fancying and liking people like a regular thing.

No, Louis doesn't want Harry to fancy him because he doesn't want to be fancied by anyone.

"You’re crazy, Styles! Let me go!” he roars and stands up, trying to reach the door, but Harry is quicker, and he blocks the door, clutching Louis's arms with his hands.

“Let me go!”

Harry just stares at Louis with wide eyes open, and Louis feels his cheeks burning and he hopes Harry doesn't realize that he's blushing because of him.

"Let me go," Louis asks one more time, this one quieter.

"Let me hug you," Harry answers back.

"No! Never, Harry!"

They start fighting, and Louis suddenly finds that it feels… strange. He should hate Harry, and he should have felt like… like he was battling with an adversary, but fighting with Harry is fun.

It’s lovely and cute, and Louis likes when Harry touches his arms, and that’s wrong. He’s older and wiser, plus he doesn’t believe in love because stupid people believe in it.

“Lou? Boo, are you ok?” Harry asks, and the older boy realizes that he has turned silent unexpectedly.

Harry watches the fear on Louis’s face, so he moves a bit away from the door, clearing the way out.

“Thank you,” Louis mutters and walks out of the closet.

The empty hall is silent and calm. Louis bites his bottom lip while he hears Harry coming out of the closet. He doesn’t want to look at the watch, because he’s scared of what’s going to happen. 

He doesn’t need to, anyway, because Harry gets closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Lou… is three o’clock.”

 

 

❤

 

"Mom."

"Yes, Louis, darling?"

"Do you believe in magic?"

Mother and son are in the quiet kitchen, Louis doing homework; Jay making dinner. She raises her eyes to Louis, curious.

The boy’s cheeks turn red of awkwardness; he's scared that his mom will mock him because he asks about magic when he's not so young to believe in those things. But of course Jay smiles widely.

"Magic like the one you see in movies?"

Louis licks his lower lip and stands up, walking thru the kitchen until he's in front of his mom. Jay gives him a knife and points the potatoes, asking Louis for his help.

"Magic like," he says, starting to cut the potato in tiny pieces, "like time stops and that stuff."

"Well, you know I don't exactly think that magic like the Harry Potter one exists," Jay explains. "But I do think that this world has some tricks under the sleeve."

"What do you mean?" Louis insists, looking at his mom. His heart is pounding inside his chest because he's about to hear if magic can be something real.

"I mean sometimes people need a bit of 'magic' to find happiness. Call it miracle, call it 'things that happened but no one believes in'— Magic, basically."

"So you think that is it possible that time stops when someone hides inside a closet?"

Jay giggles and approaches his son, kissing his messy hair. Louis smiles nervously at her.

"Your imagination is great," Jay says, winking at him. "Who says it can't be real?"

Jay is right. Who says? If Louis and Harry can actually see and feel the time stopping... That means it's real.

His mother’s words make Louis’s doubts fade away completely. Just like the winter finds its place in Doncaster, Harry finds his place in Louis's house.

They start to hang out together a lot, they help each other with their homework, they play, they paint, they... They start building their little world.

When you are young you don't ask why things happens, you just accept the fact that they happen, and you learn to live with it. That's how Louis and Harry easily accept that, yes, maybe time actually stops when they're together.

Why? They don't have a clue.

But it makes Louis happy because he has free time to be silly and have fun with Harry. He can’t explain it, but in some way Harry makes him happier.

 

 

❤

 

 

Louis never really asked himself how long the closet magic could last, but suddenly he turns fourteen and time keeps stopping when he's with Harry inside of the closet. 

“You mom isn’t home? You sure about it, Lou?” Harry asks Louis, who shakes his head.

“No, she’s working,” he answers and Harry giggles because his nose is all covered with chocolate, “but my sisters are here and they will tell mom if she finds out this—” He says, pointing the chocolate chip cake, half already eaten.

They are lying on the floor, really next to each other. Both of the boys had become pretty touchy and clingy with each other, and if Louis sometimes thinks it might be the starts of something like love, well—

No, because love doesn’t exist.

Their tummies are full and probably they’re going to hurt, but they don’t care, and they keep eating the cake Jay made for one of her friend’s birthday.

“What is your mom going to do when she finds out?”

“Probably she’s going to yell at me,” Louis says, staring at the ceiling.

Harry purses his lips and turns to his friend. Louis doesn’t turn so Harry snuggles against his neck and bites his shoulder jokily.

“Hey, Styles!” Louis yells, scandalized yet smiling fondly. “You’re silly,” he whispers as he stands up to take another piece of cake. “I’m going to keep eating.”

Harry nods with the head, snatching the piece of cake from Louis’s hands because, even when there is a lot of cake on a plate, all food taste better coming from Louis’s hands. “That’s my piece, Harry!”

Harry sticks out his tongue to Louis and the older boy jumps on him to tickle him. Harry starts laughing, and Louis thinks that Harry’s laughter is like the song of an angel, very sweet and endearing.

“Loooooooooooouis,” Harry says between laughter. “I hate you.”

“Liar, you love me,” Louis jokes and stops tickling Harry, who takes a piece of cake and smashes it against Louis’s face.

“I do,” Harry nods and Louis wipes the cream off his face. “I love you.”

“Well, I hate you now,” Louis says and smashes the whole cake on Harry’s face. “I’m a mess because of you!”

“I love you anyway,” Harry repeats, his curls dirty and his face is covered on chocolate.

“I hate you,” Louis insists and he’s getting anxious. Harry shouldn’t be so comfortable telling him that he loves him.

They start making a mess with the cake, all covered in frosting and chocolate. Harry is laughing out loud, and Louis allows himself to laugh too, because time is frozen and nobody’s watching.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry says when he recovers his breath, lying on the floor, dirty bodies pressed against each other, “do you think I can kiss you now?”

When Louis hears Harry’s question, he breaks into hysteric laughter and, after a moment, he turns completely pale and serious. “No.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, getting dangerously close to Louis.

“Because no!” Louis insists but hey; Harry is approaching his face to Louis’s and he can smell his scent, and he’s dirty, and he can count his eyelashes and… Louis turns his head to one side, away from Harry’s mouth.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry whisper. Why? Why does his voice sound so manly and low when he’s just a teenager?

“No, no, no and no!” Louis refuses, but he finds out that he’s actually expecting Harry to kiss him.

Harry has pink, plump and kissable lips, one of those he’d die to have against his lips, those he’d die to have wrapped around your fingers, licking them, and then…

I’m such a loser; Louis thinks.

Harry wipes Louis’s chin, which is covered by chocolate, and when his fingers slide by Louis’s skin, he feels something strange. Something explodes inside his chest, something warmth and nice.

"Don’t touch me like that,” Louis mutters, sounding defenseless.

Hello! It’s Harry, he’s younger than him and stupidest and he’s the boy who likes flowers and Barbies and he’s such a girl. Louis has no reason to feel so vulnerable with him, but somehow, he feels that way.

“Like what?” Harry whispers.

“Like— you want to kiss me.”

“I want to.”

"You shouldn’t. Friends don’t kiss each other,” Louis says, tripping over his tongue.

“Maybe that’s because I’m not just your friend,” Harry opines, raising eyebrows.

“No,” Louis denies. “You’re just a friend”

Harry smiles sadly at him and stands up, finally releasing Louis. The older boy is glued to the floor as if he was being attacked by some murderer. He eyes at his friend by the corner of his eyes, watching how a sad Harry sits up on the floor, defeated.

He wants to thanks him for setting him free, but a strange feeling of emptiness takes control of his body. As soon as Harry moved away, Louis feels empty.

But that isn’t love, Louis thinks. It’s just his hormones.

“You’re a coward, Styles,” Louis mocks him.

Why is he mocking him? Why is he acting so stupidly lately? Why is…?

Louis’ thoughts are cut when Harry bends down and presses his lips against his. They remain there, lip to lip for a while, feeling their hearts pounding inside their chest. The moment means everything for Louis, and right when he starts wondering what he should do next, Harry opens his mouth slightly and his tongue slides by his lower lip.

Louis quickly opens his mouth and traces his tongue inside Harry’s. They quickly deepen the kiss in a way that blows their minds, melting them in one person and sharing not only love, but passion.

“Harry,” Louis whispers, breaking the kiss. His lips are reddish and wet with Louis’s saliva, and the older boy only wants to keep kissing him until they can’t breathe.

Harry smiles stupidly at him and Louis smiles back. “Hey, Boo,” Harry says funnily, “Who's the coward now?"

“Shut up!” Louis shouts angrily, but he quickly leans up and kisses Harry again.

It’s not love, it’s just sexual need, Louis says to himself. Plus, they’re inside the closet, so it’s fine.

(And Harry's kisses are so tasty. And so good.)

 

 

❤

 

 

Louis decides to keep Harry’s kiss as a secret, so he doesn't have to make up any excuse to explain it and he doesn't have to admit that, maybe, love exists.

Because love is a lie.

Apparently, Harry decides that nobody has to know that he kissed Louis Tomlinson either, and that makes Louis a bit resentful.

Why Harry has to lie about their kiss? Louis wants Harry’s friends (especially the girls, why is Harry always surrounded by girls?) that Harry kissed someone, someone who’s a boy, so he likes boys, thank you very much.

But Harry says nothing about him, about the kiss or his love life. Louis decides that it’s unacceptable.

“Can't we stay in your room, Lou?” Harry asks one night, staring at the bed in Louis's room.

“No, no,” Louis denies and glances at the door. “My mom. She’ll ask me to do the laundry, probably.”

“But,” Harry insists, stubborn, “I can ask her to leave us alone.”

“Thanks, Haz,” Louis says quietly, smiling at him. “Don’t worry, it’s not your problem.”

Sometimes Louis wishes he could have more time. More time to be with Harry. More time to try to understand what is the warmth feeling that burst inside his body every time Harry touches him.

“Here in our room we have only minutes until mom calls me. Here we have— eternity,” Louis says, opening the closet doors.

It’s so crazy. It’s crazy as shit, and Louis isn’t sure if he has realized about what means the possibility of having the time stopped when they’re together inside the closet.

“Louis, darling, could you—” Jay’s yells goes silent when they walk inside the closet.

They lay on the floor for a while, until Harry finally speaks out, “Hey, Lou— Do you like me?”

Louis’s heart clenches a bit when Harry speaks. Honestly, his heart has been doing the most awkward things when it was about Harry.

“Why are you always so—?” Louis asks and turns to him, nuzzling his face on Harry’s neck. “You go straight to the point.”

“Because I like honesty. It’s much easier if we’re honest with each other, Lou,” Harry replies, thoughtful.

“’m honest,” Louis mutters, tempted to put a soft kiss on Harry’s cheeks.

“Liar,” Harry accuses and turns to his side, carefully wrapping Louis with his arms.

“Don’t hug me,” Louis pleads but Harry is already used to Louis’s complains. “Don’t hug me.”

He doesn’t want to be hugged; he doesn’t want to have to think about all those feelings Harry creates on him. At the same time, he craves Harry’s touch more than anything in the world.

But that’s not love.

“Shut uuuuup, Lewis.” Harry doesn’t hesitate and wraps his arms around Louis.

“Don’t call me Lewis, you, Harriet. I don’t know why I have to share this magic thing with you,” Louis says meanly and Harry hugs him tighter. Harry’s long arms fit perfectly around his waist, and Louis might feel safer and happy in his arms. “It’d had been funnier with Zayn.”

“Oh, Louis!” Harry growls and suddenly sets Louis free, rolling to the other side of the closet. “Go with Zayn then.”

“Don’t be jealous, Harry,” Louis said and a smile appears on his face. He approaches the boy who’s curled up on the corner, arms folded and cranky face. He likes when Harry gets jealous. “You’re so young, so dumb.”

“Stop calling me dumb.”

“Dumb, you dumb Harry Styles,” Louis mocks, smiling fondly.

Harry rolls up and grabs Louis by the neck while he covers Louis’s mouth with his big hand. They remain face to face for a quiet moment; their eyes glued on each other, their bodies craving more than just a touch.

And it happens just like Louis wanted it to: Harry shushes him up with a kiss. With a passionate, deep kiss.

His plump lips presses against Louis’s chapped ones, fitting perfectly, in a way that makes Louis wonder if they’re meant to kiss each other.

They snuggle together on the floor, pushing their bodies impossibly close. They share soft kisses and happy words, until their need for each other leads them to deepen the kisses and make everything hotter.

“I hate you,” Louis says, his voice huskier, biting Harry’s lower lip. “Now keep kissing me,” he pleads and Harry gladly obeys.

Their kissing gets deeper and hotter with every second, until Louis rolls up to be on top of Harry and starts rubbing their crotches idly. Harry closes his eyes, and his mouth opens slightly, and Louis doesn’t want to stop staring at him because he looks beautifully needy.

They never did anything sexual before, and it might be new and embarrassing… but none of them seem to care.

Harry whispers Louis’s name when the boy rocks his hips faster against him, and he makes a soft moan that drives Louis insane.

“Lou,” Harry moans, closing his eyes. Louis might think that seeing Harry like that is a holy experience. “Lou, I like this.”

Louis leans down to Harry’s ear, and with a low voice he whispers, “Yeah, me too.”

Harry grabs Louis by his hips and rolls around, wanting to be the one on top.

“I want it faster,” he says cheekily. His hand quickly run down to their crotches, adjusting his hard dick inside his jeans, finding the best way of making both of them feel the pleasure.

“Who are you, Styles?” Louis whimpers, surprised by the way Harry seems so eager to do anything. It’s all fairly new for Louis; he never had any sexual contact with any boy or a girl.

Harry shushes him with a kiss, and Louis might love the way his hard dick rubs against his own.

“Harry, God,” Louis moans, and suddenly he breaks the kiss. Harry’s lips are incredibly reddish now, his pretty face is sweaty, and his cheeks are splotchy red. “I don’t want this to happen here,” he whispers and puts a kiss on Harry’s forehead. “Let’s go to bed. I’ll tell mom you’ll stay for the night, ok?”

Harry nods, controlled by the urge to take Louis. His eyes scream more than just sex, yet Louis prefers to read just the sex—

Because love doesn’t exist.

When they stand up and walk out of the closet, the room seem too big and too wide for they likeness. Used to their secret place on the closet, the find the room a bit too large for them.

The younger boy just collapses on bed, and Louis quickly snuggles at his side. “Hi,” Harry says and kisses Louis again, feeling that he’ll never have enough of Louis’s kisses. “What were we doing, Lou?”

Louis blushes when he remembers what they were doing inside the closet, but Harry quickly rolls up on him, wanting to feel the friction again.

Louis feels oddly weird, because as much as he needs and wants to be with Harry, it's their first sexual experiment with someone else than himself, and he should be leading the situation; but Harry...

“Hey, someone’s horny,” Louis teases, and when he’s about to mock Harry with a face, Harry rubs especially harder and Louis can’t help moaning.

“Yeah? Me, horny?” Harry’s the one mocking him now, sniggering.

“Shut up,” Louis whimpers, quickly clutching Harry's hips with his hands. “Shut up and keep doing it.”

Harry slowly runs his hands down by Louis’s chest until he reaches his crotch. Louis’s eyes flutter shut, and there are no sounds or words exchanged, so Harry quickly unzips Louis’s trousers.

"Hum—" Harry hesitates and looks up to Louis. Somehow, the pretty blue eyes of Louis turned darker, and when he glances at him, Harry feels as if he was about to be eaten by the handsome boy.

"I really," Louis begins with a low and husky voice. He reaches up his hand and slides the tip of his thumb by Harry's lips, "I really, really need you to touch me."

Harry's cheek turns red, making him cute, which shouldn’t make Louis want to fuck him but, well, it does.

"I only made this once. 'M not good on this," Harry whispers, and when Louis puts his finger inside his mouth, the older boy quickly wraps it with his plump lips and sucks it. Fucking God.

"Sure, Styles?" Louis asks, lustful.

Louis is damn hard, and Harry isn’t sure what he should do next. But the older boy seems desperate for any contact so, without even thinking, Harry slides his hand under the boxer, wrapping his hands around Louis’s hard dick.

“Oh, fucking God,” Louis chokes when Harry touches his cock, already wet with pre-cum. “Yes, Harry, touch me babe, yes.”

Harry starts working up and down in Louis’s, amazed by the way Louis’s body reacts to his touch. Louis moans so prettily, with his eyes closed and his mouth open, face so read and wrecked expression. Harry joins their mouths while he works up and down on Louis’s cock, faster and faster.

Louis's kisses are needy, really needy, and Harry feels fascinated about how needy for him Louis can be.

It's strange, because he never did anything sexual, but he's willing to do everything Louis asks for if that means Louis needing his touch so much.

“Harry, pretty, I’m going to cum, fuck—“

Louis comes all over Harry’s hand with a loud moan of his boy’s name. Once he's done; he sighs loudly, and Harry collapses on bed, right next to him, not before wiping his hand on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, I owe you now,” Louis jokes, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s mouth. "Thank you, silly."

“We have all life to give us each other favors,” Harry replies, and even when he sounds confident talking, he blushes like an idiot.

“Oh, God,” Louis mutters, chuckling. “You’re just a kid! Horny.”

“I love you.”

“You do?" Louis wonders, raising eyebrows. "You’re made of sugar, Styles.”

Harry nods with the head. Louis smiles at him and nuzzles his head on Harry's chest. It feels good, and it feels like home

But it’s not love because love doesn’t exist.

Maybe it’s infatuation.

"Let's get naked," Louis says and Harry just obeys because he's Louis.

They take off their clothes and quickly get in bed; which isn’t big enough for them to sleep comfortably, but comfortable for them only include a tiny space, so they have an excuse to cuddle closer.

"Aren't you afraid?" Louis whispers, caressing Harry's curls.

"Of what?"

"Being naked. On bed. With me," Louis stutters, maybe talking lower than what he expected.

"Nope," Harry denies and smiles with that face he does. The creepy stare. Louis loves him so damn much. But love—. "It's like— It's like—"

"Like?"

"It's like you are part of me," Harry explains and he's red as a cherry. Cute Styles, Louis thinks. "I mean— My body is part of you? This doesn't make any sense!" Harry protests, frowning.

"No, no; it makes sense for me," Louis nods. "And I feel the same way."

When Harry smiles, Louis remembers that he's just a kid, just a little boy. Either way, he has the fucking power of being so honest; to talk with so much conviction about love, Louis, and their relationship.

"Louis?" Jay yells from downstairs, breaking the moment (and Louis hates her for that). "Darling, are you awake?"

"Mom, I’m with Harry!" Louis shouts angrily. Harry puts little and soft kisses along Louis’s shoulder, trying to calm him.

"Oh, but— I need your help!"

"Fuck off, mom, it’s late and I’m tired as shit!" Jay doesn’t reply anymore. Louis sighs loudly and rests his head against Harry’s.

"See how this is? Wish I had more time for you," he wishes.

"We have all the eternity inside the closet, Lou."

 

❤️

 

It keeps happening. Again, and again and again; they call Louis’s closet “the nest” because it’s the place where they cuddle, kiss, talk about life and just enjoy time. 

It keeps happening for a year straight, and Louis and Harry are happy about it because they can enjoy their time together without caring about the time they need to do the homework and to study for school.

It keeps happening and, inside the closet, Louis starts allowing himself to think that love can exist. 

It keeps happening until Louis turns eighteen, and he starts thinking about his future. Not only his academic future but his future with Harry as well. 

It all changes with the years; now when he sees Harry, his heart skips a beat. When Harry smiles at him, he melts inside; he can hear Harry’s voice wherever he is; when Harry walks, Louis can’t stop staring at his lanky body… 

Maybe he’s falling in love, but love doesn’t exist. It’s only a strong infatuation, not a love; true love can’t happen. 

But… Maybe he loves Harry, anyway.

 

 

❤

 

 

“Harry, do you love me?” Louis wonders while they’re sitting inside the closet, sharing cake and a cuppa. Now that they're older talking about matters of heart is much serious and difficult than before. Especially for Louis.

“I do,” Harry replies, and he sounds so convinced, so casual, like loving Louis was his mission in life and he was actually sure about it.

“But like— for real?” Louis enquiries, still not convinced. Harry looks at him and nods, solemn.

“I do. For real. Like the ‘I want to marry you’ kind of love.”

“Harry, don't be so cheesy. Those times are gone,” Louis argues just because.

“You’re free to think whatever you want, Louis, but I do love you.”

“Oh,” Louis mutters and goes silent.

Love is such a shitty thing. When you think you know everything about it, bump, love shows you that everything you knew was wrong.

“Lou?” Harry calls, tilting his head to one side. Louis avoids his gaze and bites his lower lip nervously. “Lou, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, Harry. This thing— this closet thing—”

“Yes—?”

“It’s odd as shit. Is wrong as shit.”

They go silent again. Harry tries to deduce what Louis is thinking, but his eyes speak no words to him. The younger boy gets closer to him and grabs Louis by his hips, making him snuggle on his lap.

“Hey, Styles” Louis whispers in Harry’s ear when he cuddles on his boy.

“Lou,” Harry says back and sees Louis idly playing with the crucifix which hangs by Harry’s neck. “Are you happy, Lou?”

“I don’t know,” Louis replies, and Harry knows judging by his voice, that he’s concerned. “I don’t know, Harry. I’m happy here, when I’m with you, but then— reality isn’t a closet, you know?”

“I know,” Harry nods, holding Louis’ hand.

“When I was younger, I thought this happened because we had to get married.”

Harry giggles when Louis talks about marriage. He always knew he wanted to marry him, and lately Louis started showing little signs that he wanted it as well.

“Is it because of your mom?” Harry keeps asking, considering that he can ask a little bit more.

“Maybe,” Louis says and Harry quickly finds his way to Louis’ lips, pecking him. “Harry, she’s my mom, but sometimes she can be so dumb. I mean, I know it’s not her fault if she can’t find the right one but—"

“It doesn’t mean you can’t find the right one,” Harry adds wisely, and Louis rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. He remains silent, thinking about his life and how Harry changed all his beliefs and thoughts about love and life.

Harry changed Louis in a way that scares him but makes him pleased at the same time.

“I love you,” Harry whispers, his voice soft. It’s like a lullaby for Louis, who closes his eyes and enjoys feeling Harry’s breathing close to him. They intertwine their fingers and remain silent, enjoying their bubble of love.

“You will never leave me, don’t you, Harold?” Louis asks in a low voice.

“I will never,” Harry swears and he’s sure about it.

 

 

❤️

 

 

Louis never was the crying type of guy. He barely cried when he was younger, much less he’s going to cry now, that he feels strong enough to fight his emotions. But he finds out that lately, he wants to cry all the time.

He wants to cry every time he thinks about the closet because the only thing he’s offering to Harry is a relationship inside a tiny place. It looks like he’s offering eternity when, in reality, he’s offering nothing.

Also, he wants to cry because the closer it’s the only place where he can accept he loves the boy. That’s stupid, because maybe love doesn’t exist, but what Louis feels for Harry is an exception.

What they have… it seems to grow bigger and stronger, to the point where Louis can’t hide anything from Harry because Harry just knows.

“You aren’t happy, Lou,” Harry whispers that morning, both of them having breakfast inside the closet.

“What? What the hell? Harry, no,” Louis denies, reaching for Harry’s hands. The younger boy welcomes him on his arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Why are you thinking such a stupid thing?”

“I see it,” Harry warns, giving Louis a glance. “I don’t mean you aren’t happy here, I mean you’re not happy in general.”

“Harry, stop, stop,” Louis pleads, sounding desperate.

"Lou, please,” Harry says and starts caressing Louis’s back. “Denying it will only make it worse.”

Louis curls up until he’s made a ball on Harry’s arms. They lay on the floor, glued to each other, and Louis tries hard to stay calm until he says, “I want to— say it,” he mutters with a weak voice. “I want to have the guts to say it, to accept that maybe my mom’s failures can’t lead my life. I want to go to uni and move out to my own flat and— be with you. Just be with you"

“You do?”

Louis pokes his head up and stares at him. His blue eyes are wet and puffy, but he looks cute anyway.

“Of course, Haz, sunshine.”

Harry opens wide his eyes, smiling. “What?”

“Why? Why do you want to be with me?” Harry asks quietly, his eyes shining with tears. Louis hopes they are happy tears because he can’t stand when his baby cries.

“Because—” Louis whispers but now he’s lost for words, really.

“Tell me, baby,” Harry says, and Louis frowns at the word ‘baby’.

“I’m not a baby,” he mumbles. “You’re the baby. My baby," he says and when he tries to cuddle him, he remembers that Harry grew so damn taller lately, while he remained tiny. "Shit, you’re a giant."

"Always trying to be the big spoon, eh?" Harry mocks him, as he has been mocking Louis since he grew taller.

Louis smiles at him and pushes his body impossibly close to Harry’s. “Hey, Haz”

“Yup, Lou?”

“I’m going to say this only once so better listen,” he warns, and pushes Harry away until they’re facing each other. “Are you ready?”

Harry opens his eyed wide and swallows, his Adam apple moving up and down. He holds Louis tighter and stutters, “I— guess so.”

“Sure, sure?”

“Sure,” the younger boy repeats.

“Harry Edward Styles, I’m in love with you. I’m fucking in love with you and I fucking love you with my whole heart. Now and forever, and I don't give a shit about anything, because these years inside the closet were the fucking best of my life."

Louis feels like the words resound all over the closet. He keeps hearing them even when he’s silent now, and his heart starts beating faster than ever; he’s scared that it might jump out of his chest.

World seems to stop (well, time is stopped, so…) and… wow.

That’s how you feel when you tell someone ‘I love you’ for real. These are the butterflies, the feeling of finally being complete. The… The feeling of being right. The feeling of knowing that yes, it is love; it doesn’t matter age or time. It is love.

Louis loves Harry.

Harry is looking at Louis as if he were the most splendid thing on the world. His green eyes shine brighter than ever Louis has seen and his face is lighted up. He looks perfectly kissable.

“So— thoughts?” Louis asks nervously.

“You know my full name,” Harry teases, smirking at him.

“Oh, go to hell, Styles!” Louis yells and hits Harry on the shoulder, and the younger boy quickly grabs him by his arms and pulls him into a hug, tangling their limbs and being just impossible close to one another.

“I love you too, Louis William Tomlinson,” Harry replies fondly. "I have always loved you. When I was younger and curly, and now older and with a ponytail."

"We'll discuss the ponytail thing later, ok?” Louis says and Harry kisses him on the lips.

"You love it."

"Yeah, when I ride you," Louis mumbles, lips still against Harry's.

They share kisses until a sudden noise breaks their bubble. They hear voices, then steps, moments later, someone opens the closet door.

“Louis? Harry?”

Jay and Anne’s eyes run by the closet; both surprised not only by the way the boys settled everything, so it turned to be a comfortable place to stay, but about finding them cuddling together.

"Hum—” Louis tries to say something, but his mom’s gaze turns him down completely.

“What does this mess mean, Louis?” Jay asks, frowning.

Anne, by the other hand, is smiling happily and widely to them.

“I think it’s pretty clear, Jay,” she says finally. “Literally and figurative: they’re having a closeted relationship,” she looks at the couple and winks, "and now they want to come out.”


End file.
